


It's Not I Who Poses A Danger

by Wintercameandwent



Series: Turning Back Does Not Mean All Is Lost [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen Live, Aegon's Conquest, Ariadne and Viserys are a looooong burn, Gen, Moral Ambiguity, No bashing but...maybe not for Rhaegar and Lyanna Fans, Queen Lyanna Stark, Rhaegar Targaryen Lives, The Long Night, Their names are Terus and Ariadne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29775942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintercameandwent/pseuds/Wintercameandwent
Summary: The war has begun and a young King finds himself alone on the Wall with a Queen who should never have been.
Series: Turning Back Does Not Mean All Is Lost [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086635
Comments: 24
Kudos: 33





	It's Not I Who Poses A Danger

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to GRRM. I am just playing with them.

War had come fast and brutal to Westeros. The dead that resided beyond the Wall were knocking hard and fast at the divider that kept them away from the living. One would have thought the massive structure that stood between the warring factions would have been enough, but with the dead, they brought a weapon the living would always struggle to outwit—the Winter. 

King Terus of Essos was told by Lord Commander Eddard Stark that this Winter was the worst ever known. The closest existence to memory being millennia before. This explained why the North, a land of better-prepared people than most, was struggling to survive. Under all the layers of clothing provided, he still felt a chill ghosting over his flesh. The dragon in him keeping him warm, but he wondered how the men without the blood of the dragon found the strength to move for movement means parting with the heat their bodies were able to make.

After his arrival to Dragonstone, Terus and his sisters gained word from the King that the dead were scaling the Wall in unprecedented numbers. The King—his sire, demanded that his maester send ravens to call his bannermen to head North. If Terus closed his eyes, he could picture the man's pained expression and voice as he looked at each person in his solar with his gaze stopping at his wife. His voice was strong but low as he whispered, _"We all march North, but I fear by the time we arrive, the dead will have taken the Wall and with it the North."_

News of the walking dead was not unfamiliar to Terus or his sisters. The priests and priestesses of R'hllor have been reverent towards them. The ones who brought dragons into the world. The dragon-riders of old returned once again when the threat of unimaginable evil begins to make its existence known. As they found their purpose in eliminating Essos of slavery, Terus always wondered if perhaps it is them who are evil, and this threat rose because of their resurrection. Regardless of what is true, they had heard of this enemy. Its origin genuinely unknown, but it has existed in legend from the Dothraki to the Yi-Ti down to the Summer Isle...and even Westeros.

As he looked at the man before him, Terus could feel his sisters' gazes upon him. They shared a look between them an unspoken conversation—one of many they have had throughout their childhood. The question at this moment was _do they go North?_

A firm nod from both he and Esabelle was all Ariadne needed before she extended their service to—him. She walked toward the table with a map of Westeros carved into it. Her long fingers sliding the length of the journey from Dragonstone to the Wall. Terus couldn't help but notice all eyes were on her—especially those of the young man who looked much like his sire. Terus had no memory of his uncle, but he knew Ariadne did. 

"We can go to the North. If we leave now, perhaps we can help the men at the Wall, and if the worst has happened, we can try to slow down these creatures' progression. All we ask is that you let your people know that dragons are in Westeros and that they should not fear us. We are only here to help."

Terus admits to holding his breath as they awaited word from King Rhaegar.

The man stared at his sister for a long while before his eyes slid to Terus. Hmmm, he could see the man had much he wanted to say. Do you wish to keep us protected, King Rhaegar? Terus thought. I think the time for that has passed. What say, you King? Shall we get to the business of why we are here, he thought.

"I think considering our options, your offer is the best possibility we have right now. I do not think my ravens will arrive before you. Perhaps I should send someone known to the kingdom with you. I would offer myself, but my men need to see me, and if needed, I must _incentivize_ those who do not heed the call."

The King's young son opened his mouth, but his mother's quick reflex had her grabbing his hand and squeezing it before she issued a subtle warning nod to her son. Terus didn't blame her. As a parent himself, he wouldn't trust his children with someone who was an innate threat to their existence. It is the same reason his own mother asked them to ignore Rhaegar's letter and stay in Essos.

There is wisdom to be had in caution, but too much caution on both sides will leave them stagnant, making the gestures of asking for help and offering it moot.

"I will go, Brother."

Terus eyes swung to Prince Viserys Targaryen as the man offered himself. Once again, he noted how the man looked at his sister. Turning to look at Esabelle, he saw his younger sibling noticed the somewhat taken, yet wary, look the Valyrian man had continued to bestow on their eldest sister since their arrival. They both shared an elusive smile. Many a man have been taken by Ariadne of Essos, some had even shared her bed when she deemed them worthy, but none have ever been extended the courtesy of staying in her life permanently.

Will you be different Viserys? Terus wondered.

It was with his brother's permission that Viserys headed North with them. It had taken the King four moons to get his soldiers North. During that time, men died from the harsh climate of the North, but so many more perished because the dead brought ungodly-like weather that no one in living memory had ever seen.

Almost two moons have passed since the King's arrival. Terus stood at the top of the Wall, looking at the dark sky, wondering if it should have been day or night as the sky had grown dark one night with the sun never to return. The Dark Night had come, and months later, they were at an impasse. The dead brought the storm, but the dragon-fire burned the wights. If the dead beings continued their pursuit, the dragons would surely have burned them all, but instead of coming, they hide, leaving just frequent cruel snowstorms as the sole indicator that they were near.

The sound of icy snow surrendering to the weight of the foot upon it informed him that he no longer stood alone at his post. A step that sounded more wary than cautious and slightly hesitant yet determined. From the sound, he had figured it was _the Queen_ and his name of her lips confirmed it so.

"King Terus." Her voice sounding thick as though merely saying his name caused her great difficulty.

Turning his head towards her voice, catching her in his view from the corner of his eyes.

"Queen Lyanna, I was not aware you were manning the wall." A truth for in the time Queen Lyanna Stark had been at the Wall, she had never held a post atop of the monstrosity that one of her ancestors had built.

A long silence followed. Terus swung his gaze back out to seeing nothing but darkness beyond the Wall—darkness for even the moon hid in light of the war ahead. As time passed and the quiet remained, Terus almost forgot the woman remained.

"I thought it might be time for us to speak."

Terus swung a shocked look at the woman. Not much truly surprised him in terms of conversation. His past was not a typical one, and it seemed hard discussions were the norm, from learning he was born a prince to learning of his family's need to hide. When one adds on dragon eggs and prophecies, the outrageous becomes a little bit less extreme.

Now he stands with the woman who, by the nature of her existence and place in his sire's life, usurped Terus's mother. The woman who bore his sire a son who appropriated Terus's inheritance—the life that should have been his by right. What words did they need to share, for there was nothing he wanted from her?

"I beg your pardon Queen Lyanna. I do not think this approach is wise."

"Probably not, but I have always been direct...perhaps too direct my whole entire life. I do not foresee a change to that. It is not in my nature to hide my thoughts or opinions. It is a trait I am either loved or hated for—in equal measure."

Terus considered the woman before him. What he knew of her character? He couldn't say he had first-hand knowledge of her, but rather all his knowledge came from the perspectives of others. The news did the woman no service. He did not want to speak to her, but he was curious about what pushed her to seek him out.

"Very well. I suppose it matters little if I wish to hear your opinions or not. Have you encountered many people opposed to the idea?"

The woman's mouth pulled forward, a little purse of her lips.

"A few."

"Hmmm. Let me guess—your Stark family."

The woman jerked back as if she had been struck.

"Excuse me..."

"If you insist on sharing opinions I have not elicited from you, then you should not seem so surprised when the person you are speaking to has no reason to be genteel towards you. You cannot dictate time, place, and reason for another and then demand how they react towards you. Do not forget yourself, Queen Lyanna. You speak to a King. A King who does not need to be here. It is your realm who needs me. It is not I who needs you."

Terus is a king and rarely pushes that rank on another, mainly because his station is known and they respect his authority when dealing with him, but he owes this woman nothing, so he finds little guilt in reminding her. He understands that she was young—barely a woman when his father pursued her without enough thought for his mother, the children they had, and the realm. While Rhaegar extended his hand, Lyanna Stark chose to take it, making her an accomplice in his sire's betrayal. Though the man who is King wonders if the girl she once was had any idea of how little choice she really had for a man mad enough to forsake his duty as Rhaegar had he could have been capable of doing whatever he thought necessary to achieve his goal.

In the end, it does not matter, for she believes she chose him. Everything that rose on the heels of their combined betrayals took its pound of flesh regardless if it had been their intent. Terus does not know if the woman holds guilt or remorse, and he is not sure if he cares since he grew up so far removed from Westeros's politics. Terus does find it tactless that she chose to seek him out. He begins to wonder if she has taken these steps without her husband and King's approval since in their short time together, Rhaegar tends to keep his wife—hidden.

"I suppose, all things considered, we might die any day now. It is with that awareness that has kept me from seeking you out earlier, but I find that perhaps it's better to know what to expect in the worst outcome."

Nodding to further along the conversation, "What is worse than death? What is it you seek to know?"

The shorter woman walked to stand beside him, her body turned to look at him directly in the eye.

"Rhaegar, for all his inaccuracies regarding _this prophecy_ it seems it was not completely wrong. Here we stand—a war between the dead and the living done in darkness."

The woman seems unsure to Terus's trained eye for having two sisters, a mother, and countless female cousins, followed by a wife—he knew what the variation of doubt looked like in the most confident of women. Lyanna averted her gaze quickly before adjusting her cloak and raising her eyes to meet his once more. 

"Perhaps he will correct about the outcome. We will not die, but rather we will prevail."

Terus suspected where this conversation was going, but he refused to name it. No, the gall to ask such a question would have to come from the woman who seemed unfazed by disregarding propriety or standard rules of respect.

"Would that not be a good thing?"

Taking a deep breath, the Queen proceeded.

"It would. I just wonder what is to become of us in the aftermath?"

Rocking back on his heels, Terus remained silent as the woman beside him stared intently at him—her gray eyes seeking...searching.

"I suppose your past experience has you looking at the long-term implications of your choices—yours and my _father_."

Terus could hear the distaste in his tone when speaking the word—father. The man who fathered him did not sire him, yet everything Terus is stems from both these men. In the end, Jaime Lannister is the father he claims, and that allows Terus to make peace with much of this current situation. He does not need to be a Targaryen. He does not need this life once denied. Terus has an existence far removed from this world, and it is one he holds most dear. His _true father_ walked away from his life without a thought. He found purpose outside of the role he was born to play. He made his own path and walks it in truth. Terus was too much like Jaime Lannister to ever be considered anything but Jaime's son.

"It would be disingenuous of me to expect that you would keep the past in the past. I will admit that I considered the consequences when I left with your father. I just hadn't considered possibilities outside of my own thoughts. A lesson that came at a great cost, but I have become more aware of this hindsight."

Returning his gaze to the woman, he nodded for her to proceed.

"Now, I wonder what is to happen once the war is done. What will you do, King Terus? If you survive, which I think you will, the realm will love you. The man who saved Westeros. They are fickle people and would choose to install you in the place of my sons."

"I am not alone in this endeavor. My sisters ride dragons as well. They, too, are putting themselves at risk. Why do you assume it is I who the realm will want to rule them? It is your sons the realm knows. In truth, though, I have a dragon that keeps them warm and that ventures over the Wall so that they do not have to, and yet they still fear it. I think your worry about my place in the aftermath is wasteful on your end."

"Your father predicted that _you were the Prince that was Promised._ It was a daughter I was supposed to give him, but I failed."

Her voice lowered to whisper as she spoke of what she considered her _failure._

"You are doing what my sons cannot. They are useful in other ways, but this threat is otherworldly, and they do not possess otherworldly skills unlike you—a dragon rider."

"Sometimes, one does not need to possess otherworldly skills. Perhaps all that is needed for good to fight evil is to have courage and skill with a sword, and that seems to be something your sons have in abundance...your people."

The woman shook her head.

"When the snow settles, it won't be enough. They will want you. They will want a man regardless of your sisters are by your side. What happened to you and your sisters was never my intent, but I know it carries wounds. All I ask is you show my sons grace, for they are not to blame for what your father and I did. I know I have no right to ask, but I need to know should my sons survive will you dispose of them, exile them, or send them to the Wall."

Terus considered her words. He thought about the war and his own path...what awaited him once this was over should he survive it. Westeros was not his future. After his mother was forced to flee, it ceases to be his birthright, not that it belongs to Lyanna's sons either.

Raised by a Dornish mother and influenced by a rogue father and uncle, Terus view on inheritance is shaped very differently from a Westerosi perspective. The firstborn is the heir. It is a belief that his sisters were raised with. As Terus watched Lyanna's eyes plead and battle with his own gaze, a part of him felt pity for the woman before him, for her fear isn't misguided, but rather her assumption that he is the threat to her son's inheritance.

A dragon is a dragon even when it is raised among suns and lions. A part of the beast will always shine through in some way. Even Terus is secure enough in who he is that he can recognize that outlier within. A dissonance also felt by his father, Jaime, who in truth was his sire's bastard half-brother—Terus's uncle by blood. It is also a plight he shares with his sisters. Terus has a realm to return to, as does Esabelle. They are dragons with their own clutch, which they would defend to the death. There is a dragon without a clutch of her own...that is who Lyanna should fear. It matters not if the realm prefers a man over a woman. Dragons have a way of changing public opinion.

The sound of steps coming towards them told him his relief had arrived. His eyes flitted up to catch the visitor's eyes. Ariadne. Gods, she looks so much like their mother. He supposed it would be fitting that Westeros would one day be ruled by a Queen who looked like the woman who should have been Queen had the woman before him stayed away from Rhaegar.

Terus does not claim to be a perfect man. Rules on honesty and trustworthiness are subjective. He does not hold himself to an exceptional expectation that others will easily discard if it does them a disservice in anyway. In that regard, he is much like the rule. He will pick and choose what works for him, and in doing so, he hopes he makes the best decision. In this battle, Terus picked his side long ago.

Looking back toward Lyanna, he sighed profoundly, releasing his own unspoken feelings.

"Queen Lyanna, I understand your concern for it is grave, but I give you my word it is not I who poses a danger."

The older woman looked at him as if trying to surmise the truthfulness of his words. Train to hide his thoughts and feelings from the visages of his face, he allowed her the time she needed to determine his intention. Terus trusted that he betrayed nothing of his actual knowledge. As the pause in silence began to border on uncomfortable, the woman nodded.

"Thank you, King Terus, for your time and your...honesty."

The woman walked away, nodding towards his sister in acknowledgment before departing.

"What did she want?" Ariadne asked.

"To know if I would usurp her sons if the opportunity presented itself."

Ariadne's brow hiked surprise.

"Hmm...the woman is audacious. I'd give her that. If things were different, perhaps I might have even liked her."

Terus looked at his sister once again, sharing a look. He doubted Ariadne every warming to Lyanna if she came into their life as their sire's...wife and their mother still living, and his face said so.

Ariadne laughed.

"Very well, perhaps not. What did you tell her?"

"The truth."

"What might that be?"

Terus bumped his sister's shoulder as he began to walk toward the lift to take him down the Wall.

"What we both know to be true. It is not me she should fear."

A slow smile pulled at his sister's lips, and he found that it tugged at his own.

Ariadne turned toward the unseeing expanse beyond the Wall. Her profile gently troubled, and as her brother, he could guess as to why.

"You know Ari, you might be surprised to find he too poses no threat."

Ariadne rolled her head towards him as well as her eyes.

"Men are always precarious in some way."

"Perhaps, but you just might find you enjoy his brand of danger. He is all you remember of your past."

"Such that is was. It is all vague, Brother."

"Not him. He was always unambiguous in your recounts. Perhaps there is a reason why. I am not advocating you completely lower your guard, but maybe you might explore what it is about the man that pulls at you."

His sister returned her gaze into the ether as she always did when she listened to him but pretended she wasn't.

"Goodnight, Brother."

Terus found himself smiling as he heard the smirk in her voice. Walking toward the lift, he called back.

"Goodnight, Sister."

Making his way down the mountain, Terus sends a prayer that sleep would find him quickly and that the war would end soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I always wondered what a conversation between Aegon and Lyanna would look like, so in honor of Aegon's Week, I thought to write it.


End file.
